“Is there tea for everyone?” Mr. Bertrand’s strident voice jerked Nash’s attention back to the others.
“Lots.” Would it hurt the man to ask politely?
He prepared a cup for Miss Stone. With a quiet thank you, she accepted it. He carried two more to the men on the narrow bench next to the table.
Mr. Zacharius’s hands shook so hard it was a wonder he’d manage to get any of the liquid into his mouth.
Mr. Bertrand huffed and took the tea without so much as a word of thanks.
Nash poured tea for himself in a battered tin cup from the cupboard and lowered himself to the bench beside Mr. Zacharius.
Boots thudded on the step. The door creaked open. Cold blasted in, carrying droplets of rain on its breath. Hawk considered them. “Where’s Shorty?”
“I’m guessing that’s the man who lives here.” Nash didn’t wait for an answer. “No sign of him.”
“He wasn’t in the barn.” Hawk pulled his hat lower. “I’ll look around.” Damp cold blew across the room as he stepped outside.
Rain pounded on the roof. Mr. Bertrand’s cupscratched across the table. Mr. Zacharius’s wheezing overlays all other sounds.
Nash hadn’t thought to be concerned about Shorty’s absence, assuming he was in the barn. Knowing he wasn’t changed things.
“I pray the man has found shelter,” Mrs. Stone murmured.
Nash nodded.
The travelers sipped their tea. Their cups empty, they set them aside. No one seemed inclined to talk, although Mr. Bertrand grumbled about the weather. Perhaps, like Nash, they waited for Hawk to return with good news.
The door crashed open, and Hawk stepped inside. “We got a problem.”
All eyes jerked toward him.
“Shorty’s hurt. I need help to get ’im.”
Nash pushed to his feet. “I’ll come.”
“Could use another body.” His piercing black eyes went to Mr. Zacharius, but he gave a little headshake, recognizing the man didn’t have the strength to face the weather. He turned his attention to Mr. Bertrand, who harrumphed.
“I did not pay good money to venture out into this weather for some needless mission of mercy.”
“We’ll manage on our own.” Nash heard the weary acceptance of his words.
“That won’t be necessary.” Miss Stone rose. “I can lend a hand.”
Shock and resistance burned through Nash’s veins. “You should stay inside where it’s warm and dry.”
“Not when someone is in need.”
Two
Mission of mercy.Mr. Bertrand’s choice of words served as a reminder of her duties. An injured man needed help. She would go. It was as simple as that. Let Nash Burns look as surprised as he chose. Let him protest all he wanted. This task called her to action.
“Be careful.” Mother patted Addie’s arm.
“Of course.” She slung her wet coat tighter around her. She was wet clear through, as were all of them. The heat from the stove had just begun to make its way to her skin. As soon as she got back, she meant to get warm and dry, though it might take the rest of the day and all night to accomplish it.
Squaring her shoulders, she dismissed her discomfort. She’d dealt with worse in the past and survived.
“You’ll do.” Hawk’s words might have been resigned.
